<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Petal and Parties by Pandaice26</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027934">Petal and Parties</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandaice26/pseuds/Pandaice26'>Pandaice26</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:33:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandaice26/pseuds/Pandaice26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A florist sets up a shop where he can, on the edge of downtown, where not so subtle drug deals take place. Surprisingly, thanks to frequent gang-related murders from The Roses, the leading gang, business is constant and profitable. This don't ask we all know business model if fine with the usual end of life bouquet special, usually a red rose, changes up when one man asks for something new. With a rose on his wrist, he asks for 2 things a flower for a broken heart and a red rose.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Petal and Parties</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this my first story and the more you tell me what to fix the better I will be at some point bro. Enjoy these gay guys figuring things out. -Panda</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stood in the alleyway behind my shop, cardboard boxes flattened and stuffed into a dumpster. Bending back several cracks could be heard as my spine becomes a firecracker. I look down the way not towards the dead-end but towards the street. Two guys stand close together I know what's happening but saying or doing anything means either I'm out of business or I'm in a casket. Inside my store, everything is to order. I' actually proud how this turned out The walls and ceiling used to be rotting wood and upstairs had some kind of cat sex ring. Got that taken care of quick, and the smell was covered by all the flowers. It took a lot of me to make this a home and a store. The first story I made my store, flowers lining the walls, the second floor became my new apartment, a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom with questionable water pressure, and a bedroom. My bed filled up most of the room, the small bed stand and gaming rig I had set up took up the rest. The third was a storage unit of sorts mostly fertilizer and vases, along with whatever didn't fit in either the store or my apartment.</p>
<p>My phone went off In my pocket, an alarm I set to open up the store. 8 a.m. sharp. Sign flipped, the door unlocked, and my store stayed empty for a while. When I checked the system time, it turned out to be about 20 mins. The first customer was an older lady no more than 80. Flowers for a grave but I knew not to ask questions, she seemed to be in a hurry, nervous even. Constant glances at my red roses. I know they are a popular flower but usually, people look at them like they should get one for a lover. Bored I sat looking out the window, after a few minutes of nothing but playing on my phone and sweeping I heard it. A muffled gunshot. Why I had no idea as it is the morning and I knew they were gangs in the area but I thought they only worked at night. I stayed inside the store. I was too new to rob, plus I barely knew the gangs' names let alone who 'owned' what territory. A new sound almost as loud as gunshot sounded in my ear. Though it was only the ring of my doors bell. It was kicked open 3 men stepped in and grabbed 3 red roses each. "You didn't need to kick the door" I laughed. My smile quickly fell after I saw their faces.</p>
<p>All 3 had scowls, "Are you guys paying together or separately" I asked quickly as possible. They each placed their rose on the counter and the middle one pulled out his wallet.  "$17". A $20 appeared before my face and a rose was all that I could see on his wrist before I made the change "$3". They grabbed that and the roses and left. </p>
<p>Not much happened the rest of the day other customers wary of the roses, some spoke about my location, usually praise of how close it was to work or from somewhere further downtown. All had the same fear of the roses. That night, just sitting and watching Netflix more gunshots. 3 more to be exact. I checked my phone fearing for what happened. Simple headline: 3 new bodies 3 new roses. A photo of the deceased bodies was shown with my roses on their bodies. Finally, I let myself learn what does in this city. 3 major gangs and with its maps, names, and frequent locations. I should have looked this up sooner. I was fully in the worst of the big 3's territory. </p>
<p>The Red Roses best known for their famous tactic, a single red rose sent in the morning, by the end of the night they are dead. Those roses I sold were death sentences. I felt the tears stream down my face. The more I read the worse I felt, the gunshot in the morning was a florist down the road. Turns out he said no to them, and Red Roses don't like that word eery much. The longer I looked the more nervous I became of not just the Roses but also the Steel Crew and the Buring Boys. The Steel Crew always wear sleeveless jean jackets and have a chain tattoo on their bicep the more links the more things they've stolen. The burning Boys were not arsonists but rather more like tricks of the trade best at framing and blackmail. They did like to burn down those who don't pay up though. </p>
<p>Thoughts ran through my mind. Mostly that was in the most reasonable yet most dangerous area. Florists who leave get got, and I wanted to run as fast as I could. I had no money though, sunk too much to start fresh here. I pulled my covers close. and laid my head down deciding to sleep my problems away. It was hard especially when I thought that I heard my door open with the sound of the bell. Hallucinations due to grief I thought. My door was locked both the one in the stairway and to my room. </p>
<p>I woke up quickly a nightmare fresh but fading. I pushed it away as I showered and make me some cereal. I put on my shorts, a t-shirt, and apron. I walked downstairs to unlock the door and turn the sign to open. The door was unlocked and fear struck me like a brick wall. I back away and nearly tripped on one of my displays. I walked to my counter to sit down. I caught my breath unaware I held it for so long. A note was on the counter like it was thrown. A red rose was on the front. I opened it. "Welcome to the neighborhood. You might be new so here are some rules. You're our florist which means you give us our roses. You live under us, replaceable. You know what happened to our last one who said no." Finally in red was a signature. Ian Thorn. </p>
<p>A quick google search turned out a lot of the information I needed. Son of Rich Thorn, founder of the Red Roses. Ian was 27, had a long criminal record, and an Instagram. I hesitated to look but when I did I was surprised. He had almost a million followers and was almost like a model. Lots of shirtless pics all of which showed off his every worked out body. He was the usual bad boy vibe with tattoos but his body was more like someone who worked out all day. 6 pack, huge pecs and a few showed him flexing his biceps only his left arm had any tattoos, a full sleeve to the wrist covered in roses and it stopped at his shoulder. The only tattoo not apart of his sleeve was an x over his left bicep, over his heart.</p>
<p>I quickly put down my phone as the doorbell rang. "Welco-" I began to say before I saw them all frowns. 5 guys this time yet only one went to my roses. "We need you to come with us." One with a shaved head said. A rose was put in my had. "I-I can't, m-my store" I studdered through.<br/>
"It'll be fine" the same one responded.<br/>
"$6 right" the one who went to the roses laughed before putting a 5 and a 1 on the counter.<br/>
"Y-yes" the two bigger ones grabbed me as a rose was put in my hands.</p>
<p>I gripped it tight the thorns the last thing on my mind. I was noticed that one and the bigger guys were my height a rare sight for tall me. It came and went as I was shoved in a car that was put out front. I kept my mouth shut as a bag was put on my head. "I like this one, they usually scream," said the driver. I started to shake as days seemed to pass. I was dragged out and almost carried by the same guys. "Sit" was all I heard before being pushed into a very plush chair that seemed to swallow me.</p>
<p>The bag seemed to vanish off my face. In front of me was the man I was looking at shirtless what felt like days ago. A blush filled my checks, not usually my checks are usually red but this didn't help. I didn't get a good chance to look at his face as his posts were dark and he hides his face well. Now was different he had a smirk on his face. He had glossy black hair, cut short at the sides and on top, and his eyes were brownish blue. He had stubble covering his chin and his upper lip. His lip tilted upward in the corners before he simply stated. "Wow no screams, no yells, no tears. But look at this" he pointed exactly at my eyes "fear. It doesn't look good on you." Hie eyes seemed to joyfully look at my hands before a scowl replaced whatever emotion was there. "Why is he bleeding? You get him our wraps and some take the rose." He screamed. The rose was taken from me and my hand was grabbed and wrapped. </p>
<p>"So you know why your here of course so the question is are you ready to help me?"<br/>
"I don't know why I am here I thought I was the florist" I mumbled.<br/>
"No one told him," Ian asked calmly. I felt the tone in the room change, the gang members seemed to shuffle away he looked into the eyes of the driver and handed him the rose. "You have until tonight you know the rules" the driver ran out as fast as he could. "So the plan is you are gonna help me and I make sure no one ever touches you, oh and that your business stays open"</p>
<p>"You could have sent that in a note" I laughed nervously. I regretted it as soon as I felt a gun to the back of my head. "S-sorry."<br/>
"That's my boys over reacting gun down" The pressure on the back of my head disappeared. He walked forward and brought his face close "and your right. So let's go. I'll drive." he pulled me up and opened the passenger seat door. "Thanks" fell out of my lips as I got in. He joined me and sped out of what looked like a garage and bar mixed. "Welcome to my crew. Looks like they like you" he grabbed my arm and shook me. "Relax all you do is sell flowers and you get to have your back guarded by the best in town. So much better looking than our last roser." he winked at me. "Now you have a store to run" I didn't realize we stopped until he was helping me out the car. he grabbed my hands and looked annoyed when I flinched. "Sorry about your hands I'll send you a kit to help. I'll help you in." He pushed me on my back and that got me started towards my door behind my counter and sat on the stool. "Nice place, what's your favorite?" He said of course by the roses. I looked over at my favorite "baby's breath." A small smile grew on my face. </p>
<p>Ian smiled and nodded. He then pulled me up and pushed me against the wall. "Don't forget Roser," he said breath in my ear. "This will be my town and I am to be respected" He let go and I fell my knees, weak. I caught myself with my hands and felt pain shoot up my arms. I cried out and he looked back from the door, worried. It changed to a blank face as soon as I looked at him. He left, while I was stuck on the floor, in pain, and unsure what I did wrong.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>